


folie a deux

by folieadeux26



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: After the Fall, Crime, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Hannibal - Freeform, Hannigram - Freeform, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Will - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folieadeux26/pseuds/folieadeux26
Summary: They survived from that cliff. Finally they had a chance to be alone in their darkness. None of them knew what would happen; they just needed time to move forward, or to start something new. They had to be patient, of course but Hannibal knew how to wait. The road that they carved themselves would be interesting, indeed.





	1. a start of something new

 

**WILL**

There was only one thing that broke their silence. The sound of the waves. Cruel waves that made a deep, carefree sound. Hitting the shore with harsh moves and taking away everything in shore with them. Nothing was stronger than the waves in this rocky, forsaken place.

But, _of course_ , there was one thing that they just couldn't drag. One young man, without any sign of life. The waves were unforgiving against him, crashing and trying to pull him back—the man couldn't move, yes, but he resisted anyway.

The shore was covered with blood. It had a soft, warm colour. The moonlight took away the colors, though, leaving back only the trace of an endless black.

Will Graham was lying amidts that nothingness, like a beacon. His shirt was coated with red. His curly brown hair was dancing in the same rhytm which the dark waves held. The salty water was burning his scars. The scars, which filled his body now, seemed to resonate with every touch of the water beneath his feet. Moving, for him, was hard. With every groan and with every shake of his body it felt like water started to fill his lungs.

Even his own body was just so... _done_.

He couldn't be alive. He just _couldn't_. He must have died. The cliff was very high. More so than he could have possibly imagined.

He could recall the reason he did, even though in that confusion, as he did it, everything had lost its importance. It was just _them_ , falling and falling and _falling_.

_Can't live with him, can't live without him._

That was the main reason he jumped. He realized what he became. He realized whom he wanted to be with. He couldn't live without Hannibal Lecter. They were conjoined. They shared the same mind.

While he was thinking about him, a huge wave came and coated all of his body.

And dragged him to the ocean.

He tried to struggle, but none of his limbs worked.

 _Maybe_ , he thought. _Maybe if I let go just this once..._

 

 

**HANNIBAL**

Hannibal carried Will's body to shore. The burning smell of saltwater was hurting his eyes. He had broken or dislocated bones, probably. But he experienced pain so many times. He knew how to deal with his scares, how to tolerate the pain.

After the cliff, his body had fallen into the ocean. The impact had hurt him, of course; the water felt like stone. He had pushed his head to the air, after, and tried to breathe. Tried to calm down. Every single part of his body was hurting but he had to find Will. Even if he was dead—and even though the though hurt him far more than any scar he'd received through this—he had to find a way to honor him _somehow_.

He swam to shore, then, forgetting about the way his whole body burned. 

Will Graham wasn't breathing when he found him.

All the more reason to touch his lips against the other man's own—a kiss, a gateway to life, to the man he loved painfully.

 

 

**WILL**

Will woke up with a unbearable pain. The pain was everywhere on his body. He heard the crackles of burning wood in the grate, smelled the soothing smell of the room.

He had so many bandage, he noticed, covering his scars and somewhat soothing his pain.

He tried to remember what happened. Why was he here? Where was this place? And most importantly, _where was Hannibal?_

He remembered the cold wind on the cliff. The amazing scenery: him, Hannibal, Red Dragon's body and the beautiful ocean.

He remembered the red wine that he was drinking when Red Sragon came. He remembered that unique feeling. Sipping his wine while Hannibal was suffering. He felt both good and bad, then, and powerful and even _weak_.

Being next to Hannibal was always confusing.

He had never been scared when he looked at Hannibal's eyes. His brown, meaningful eyes had always been a comfort zone for him. His eyes were a relaxing place that he could stay all the time. They were the doors of Hannibal Lecter's mind castle after all, the home to his danger but comforting all the same.

He was alone. Again, after all these years without Hannibal and their therapy sessions. He took a risk. He thought they wouldn't survive. But this time, he was certainly sure that he was alive.

What if he survived, but Hannibal didn't?

He heard footsteps; quiet, gentle.

Than he saw him. Wearing what looked like a cozy sweater, holding a red wine bottle and walking to the room like they hadn't been falling off a cliff some time—he still didn't know how many hours, or days have passed since he last drifted in the ocean—ago. Will watched, helplessly, as the other man sniffed the air. 

His first thought was a little insane: maybe he could still smell his shaving cream, the one that he hated. Nevermind the fact that the ocean and all that blood would have all but wiped the whole smell but nevertheless. It was a comforting thought.

But. _Oh_. Hannibal Lecter was standing against him. Pouring wine. First he smelled it, as he usually did, and then he sipped once.

Will was watching all his gestures because really, what could he do? He was looking at the man who destroyed his life, and also the man who made him realize who he was. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know how he was feeling.

He couldn't say anything. He was simply riveted to this spot. But then, Hannibal looked at Will.

Their eyes met.

It was rare, as it always was, because Will never liked looking at someone’s eyes. Hannibal's eyes were unusual. They were comforting, at peace, _clever_.

Hannibal refused to show a reaction. As he always did, he just looked at Will. With hate, perhaps, or regret or maybe _love_.

After sharing what felt like an eternity long silence, Hannibal said, "You're awake," and took a big sip of his wine. Then, he smiled ruefully, "Perhaps we should be thankful to God, Will. He acted against your wishes, He let us _live._ "

Will took a deep breath and smiled softly, shakily. He always liked the way Hannibal talked about God; wry, humorous, ironic.

"You'd be the God in this case, then, wouldn't you? And you love it."

Hannibal just smiled back.

 

 

**HANNIBAL**

Perhaps it was better to let him believe.

He wasn't the one who saved them. _Fate_ was.

 


	2. Before you and after you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "First, we are going to visit an old friend."
> 
> The other man didn't say anything, he simply nodded.
> 
> Meat was back on the menu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my talented editor ‘drow’. She is a really sweet person.
> 
> And I hope you guys enjoy reading!!

 

**HANNIBAL**

Hannibal's mind castle had two important doors. They were the only beings that he remembered about what being a human was like. They made him realize his feelings. The feelings that he lost years ago.

" _Hannibal_!"

Mischa's desperate screams were echoing throughout the room and rebounding every time, slowly killing little Hannibal's heart.

One man was singing a German song. Trying to make his sister calm down before he stabbed the sharp hatchet into Mischa's little neck.

One time one of these men said, "We eat to live."

And they _were_ hungry. They had to eat.

Hannibal tried to be strong. He ran, attacked the man, but he wasn't strong enough to fight.

His neck bumped to the wall, all of his muscles stopped moving. He looked at his beautiful little sister one last time.

" _Anniba_!"

Then, the big door closed. Song continued until it became whispers.

(" _Ein Mannlein steht im Walde ganz still un stumn_...")

Little Hannibal's soul died that day. With all his feelings, and his heart.

Mischa's was the oldest door. It was the only thing left to Hannibal regarding his broken soul. The soul that carried all his feelings and hopes that a little child had, once.

Everything was fine until Will Graham. There was only one door. No confusion and no difference. Just living for all its benefits.

But then he came like a tornado. Changed everything forever. And slowly created a door. A door that would stay forever.

Hannibal didn't know what that feeling was. The passion for protecting him was changing his harsh heart slowly. But he was also very curious about hurting him. How would it feel like?  At first, he was sure it would feel good. But it changed. Slowly and effectively.He wanted to hurt him, eat him. He was curious about the taste of him, but also losing him was strange. It was scary for Hannibal, but he forgot the feeling of fear years ago. So it was hard for him to define that.

Hannibal felt everything would become meanless without him. He found himself with Will.

When Will came, the room got filled with that shaving cream smell that Hannibal had always been waiting for...

Hannibal felt happy. He couldn't realize at first. He forgot that feeling because his life was completed with anger and revenge a long time ago.

Then, Will came.

Eye contact had always disturbed Graham. He hated that judging feeling, the one Hannibal knew well enough of. Maybe he thought they would see everything inside when they looked at his beautiful, beautiful eyes. Eyes that were the shade of the ocean.

Eyes that became black in the dark, just like the ocean itself.

Hannibal loved those eyes. Loved being lost in them. Loved being in that unclear ocean and discovering it, _owning_ it.

Occasionally he had the chance to look at them. He could see Will's soul, then. He knew a hidden child was screaming in those eyes.

Hannibal loved that child just as he had loved Mischa. He wanted to treat this child's broken heart. He wanted to hold him forever because he couldn't hold Mischa, not anymore.

When they could reach that moment—looking at each other's eyes—their own curiosity and passion became one created a place that was for their minds only. A place that was silent communication.

They were two mixed souls. They completed each other like puzzle pieces. There were conjoined.

But Will was... different. He wouldn't accept Hannibal as the way he was.

There was only one way to make Will understand. Hannibal had to hurt him. Trick him, manipulate him, and let him become something more. He had to make him evolve.

He had to get hurt, he had to understand and see, and only then, things would be alright for both of them.

Hannibal thought that he could fix him, fix his weaknesses, and make him as strong as him.

He wanted to stay with Will and learn every single detail about him. He wanted him.

Will was lying on the couch, looking a bit ill at ease. Both of them were silent, only looking at each other. Hannibal lost his patience sometimes when it came to Will. Only Will.

He walked slowly to him. He didn't want to scare Will. He knew he was confused.

 

 

**WILL**

They looked like two children playing hide and seek. Will knew that Hannibal was getting closer, but he refused to show any reaction.

Or perhaps he was just lost; he just didn't know what to do.

Where to go, what to do? How could they survive? How many days had passed? Would they be caught at the end of the road?

Love him or hate him?

"How do you feel?" Hannibal asked, quiet.

"Damaged."

"It's quite understandable," the other man said. Then, added, "After that cliff."

Hannibal was trying to act like he didn't understand what he meant, of course—he loved to frustrate him.

"How did we survive? It was... It's impossible."

"It's not."

Hannibal waited for him to talk, then, but Will didn't. Instead, he looked right into Hannibal's eyes.

Hannibal gladly continued, "Do you believe it's just an exception, Will?"

 _He didn't._ "Why didn't you let me die?" Will asked. He wanted to know the answer desperately, but he was scared. He didn't know what he was scared of. Maybe from Hannibal’s answer or perhaps from a word that Bedelia said: 'yes.'

Hannibal got closer and sat next to Will's feet.

"Do you remember the gallery, Will?"

"I do," Will said, curious.

"You were wondering if either of us could survive separation. I was curious too but didn't want to risk it."

As he listened, Will remembered the gallery, remembered their most unambiguous talk yet.

 

...

 

 

"We began to blur," Will had said.

"Freeing yourself from me, and me freeing myself from you, they are the same.

"We are conjoined," Will said and watched as Hannibal's eyes darkened. "I am curious whether either of us can survive separation."

"It’s the hardest test."

 

...

 

 

 **HANNIBAL**  

"And we survived. Together. Don't you think that it has a meaning Will?"

Like that time in the gallery, Will looked at Hannibal and smiled softly. 

"I am not curious anymore, Hannibal."

Hannibal smiled, showed he understood. Will countiniued: 

"It's not so feasible for us, anymore."

 _Curious_. He felt that strange thing again. Love.

Hannibal stood up then, and went to the kitchen to bring water and medicine to Will.

 

 

**WILL**

In the meantime, Will looked around. He saw the television. He remembered everything.

Probably everyone was trying to catch them after what happened with the Red Dragon.

He opened the TV with the remote control right beside him and startled when he saw themselves at the news.

A blonde reporter was already in the place where they killed Red Dragon. She was shouting.

"The Chesapeake Ripper Hannibal Lecter, and his possible partner Will Graham, the FBI agent who had been blamed for multiple murders and stayed at a prison for a while, killed Red Dragon _together_ right here."

She waited, possibly for dramatic effect. Will scoffed.

"Two murderers made the body look like a piece of art again as we can see here. FBI reported that they couldn't find any evidence about where they are now."

Dolarhyde was finally looking like a dragon. His skin on his back had been leathered, resembling wings. They were flowers around his naked body. He was standing right beside the cliff, looking at the sky with his arms open, like asking help from God.

Or, _no_. Hannibal must have putten him near the cliff to watch the two men survive.

Every detail thatHannibal made was meaningful.

When Will was lost in his thoughts, Hannibal came in. He sat next to Will and gave him his pills and waters.

Will asked, after he basically inhaled the water with his pills, "Where are we now?

"In a safe home that they can't find."

Will laughed. He knew that Hannibal would kill again. He knew he would, too. He wasn't really uncomfortable with killing, but how would they kill and hide while still doing what they loved—while still doing what they sacrificed so much for?

"Well," Will chuckled again. "You must have a plan for all this.

"No, not this time."

Will arched an eyebrow, surprised."It must be strange to you."

"I do have one," Hannibal said, soft eyes looking over him, like trying to memorize every single detail. "But I'm afraid it's simply a short-term one."

Will looked at Hannibal, and waited

"First, we are going to visit an old friend."

The other man didn't say anything, he simply nodded.

Meat was back on the menu.

 

**Author's Note:**

> it’s my first time writing a fic and also english is not my native language, so sorry for the mistakes that i made!!
> 
> and I hope you liked it. hannigram is not your standart couple, and when you are writing about them you have to think a lot. like “would they say this? how will they work after the cliff?" or "how can i write all these feelings, details and imperfections in their relationship?"
> 
> i will be here again for the next chapter. ❤️


End file.
